


Don't Look Back

by Bazzle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x07, Bad Boys Coda, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:11:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazzle/pseuds/Bazzle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to Bad Boys because we all needed a little more Weechester feelings, right?</p>
<p>The gnawing fear and guilt that he felt staring at his father’s shape in the shadow of the Impala made him want to turn around... he just wanted to put his tie back on, find Robin and run away from all of this. But then Sam noticed him, and the airplane he’d been playing with clattered to the ground and he shouted, “Dean!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Look Back

**Author's Note:**

> That episode killed me. Couldn't get over how well that kid captured Dean and I, for one, really wanted another 30 seconds so we could get a Weechester hug. But I guess I'll have to settle for writing it :) Enjoy!

After Dean denied Sonny's offer, the offer to give up a little part of his home to Dean permanently, he left Dean to himself. He felt terribly alone in that room, somewhere between this fantasy life he’d been selfishly clinging to and the reality that was waiting for him outside. There was a sense of shedding his skin when Dean took off the outfit he'd put on for the dance. He felt like he was shrugging off the past two months and it was a heavy layer. But whenever he felt like he was losing his nerve, his eyes wandered back to the window where the outline of the Impala was barely visible through the sheer curtain, knowing Sammy was waiting for him. 

So he took off the too-short tie, a few stray tears still clinging to his eyelashes, and laid it out on his bedside table. It wasn’t his anyways. He unbuttoned his shirt and left it open over his black undershirt. He opened his top drawer to pull out Sam’s necklace that he had folded carefully along with the other few belongings he had managed to bring with him to the boys home.

He’d felt strange earlier, taking it off for the dance. For the past two months, it had been a constant reminder that he wasn’t home, he wasn’t with his family, but he had taken it off mindlessly before, dropping it on his bed without a thought. He’d spotted it in the corner of his eye when he was tying his shoes and stopped. Staring at it, he had felt obligated to put it away, but that’s all he had felt, obligation... he wasn’t sure he would have put it back on after the dance, and he hated himself for that now.

He put it back on, looking at himself in the mirror as he did so. The familiar weight on his neck grounded him, and it was easier to leave his bedroom with it on, only carrying his backpack full of the few belongings that were actually his. He had stared hard at the picture of Robin for a long time, but he finally decided to leave it on the dresser even though it made him feel hollow inside.

He stood on the front stoop for a second, watching his brother in the window and the shadow of their father behind him. His father was looking at him, he could feel it even though he couldn’t see his eyes in the dark. The gnawing fear and guilt that he felt staring at his father’s shape in the shadow of the Impala made him want to turn around... he just wanted to put his tie back on, find Robin and run away from all of this. But then Sam noticed him, and the airplane he’d been playing with clattered to the ground and he shouted, “Dean!”

Dean couldn’t keep the grin off his face, even with his father’s hard eyes on him, and the last instinct of hesitation vanished because before he was even halfway to the car, Sam had finally managed to unlock his door and he ran to meet Dean, throwing his arms around his middle and squeezing him as hard as his skinny arms could manage.

Dean wanted to say something silly, casual, anything to make things seem normal for his own sake as much as Sam’s, but his throat was too tight and he just wrapped his arms around Sam’s shoulders.

“I’m glad they found you, Dean,” Sam said after a few seconds, his face pressed into Dean’s chest and Dean realizes with a jolt that he’s grown since last he saw him, clinging a little higher on his waist instead of at his hips, “Dad’s boring.”

Dean laughs and lets a hand drop on Sam’s head. Dean didn’t deserve this kid, the kid he had almost let go hungry only a few months ago. He couldn’t believe that he had ever risked his safety or comfort. And yeah, he still felt guilty as hell for it, but the immense relief at having him in his grip again was making it easy to ignore.

“I missed you too, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam squeezes him a little tighter. He notices the baggy sleeves and the familiar pattern, “You stealing my clothes again?” and Sam pulls away too soon, beaming at him like they’re sharing a joke.

Dean pulls away from Sam and walks over to pick the plane he had dropped off the concrete. There’s a part that’s fallen off and Sam picks it up and shrugs, then he sticks his head through the car window.

“Can I sit in the front with Dean?” he asks their father. 

“No,” their father says immediately, “He needs some-”

“I’ll sit in the back with you, Sam,” Dean says, not sure he’s ready to face his father still, sitting beside him like he still deserves to be at his right hand. So the airplane gets dropped in shotgun and Dean and Sam climb into the back seat.

“He hasn’t slept since we started driving,” their father says in the front seat, voice flat, “And that was almost 24 hours ago so don’t keep him up.”

Dean nods to their father in the rear-view, “Yes, sir,” and then turns to Sam and sees now that he looks exhausted. His bright eyes are puffy and his smile, sleepy, “Why aren’t you sleeping, kiddo?”

Sam shrugs and says, “I was excited...”

Dean laughs and feels a little giddy when their father starts the engine and the familiar hum of the Impala surrounds him. He pulls at Sam a little and the kid lies down without any complaint, using Dean’s thigh as a pillow and wrapping a little hand around his knee.

“I was really scared,” Sam says in the whisper they know is just quiet enough that their father can’t hear their voices over the radio, and they pull out of the driveway, “I was really scared you weren’t coming back.”

“I know, Sam... I’m sorry,” Dean says, and he’s apologizing for the money and the months apart. 

He indulges in the urge to pet Sam’s hair, brown strands between his fingers. A few days from now, when everything’s back to normal, Sam’s gonna shake him off, choose to sleep with a sweatshirt as a pillow instead of curling into Dean’s warmth the way they had when they were younger, they way they were now... but for right now, Dean likes to think that Sam is letting him take care of him like this because he missed him, because he still trusts him, even if Dean might not deserve it. Dean just runs his fingers through Sam’s hair like he did when Sam used to be afraid of falling asleep because of the nightmares.

“Everything’s back to normal now,” Dean says, and Sam nods, “I’ll always come back.”

And with the warmth of Sam in his lap and his hand in Sam’s hair, Dean forgot to look back at the farm.

**Author's Note:**

> Look! I wrote fluff! No angst or Wincest feels! Just completely not-even-a-little-dark-fluff! I feel good about this.
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed this enough, I would be forever grateful if you shared on Tumblr! I really need to get one...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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